


a better morning

by orphan_account



Category: The Magnus Archives (Podcast)
Genre: Jon and Martin are gay and in love, M/M, also Jon is frisky, gratuitous fluff, sick fic? except it's withdrawal
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-01
Updated: 2020-01-01
Packaged: 2021-02-27 03:27:58
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 895
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22020307
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: When Martin came back into the bedroom after his shower, he was surprised to find Jon still in bed. He could see him just barely, only an errant tuft of his dark hair sticking out from beneath the duvet against one of the pillows.(Written for the Artefact Storage End-of-Year Exchange)
Relationships: Martin Blackwood/Jonathan Sims
Comments: 8
Kudos: 171
Collections: End-of-Year Exchange 2019





	a better morning

**Author's Note:**

  * For [HirilElfwraith](https://archiveofourown.org/users/HirilElfwraith/gifts).



When Martin came back into the bedroom after his shower, he was surprised to find Jon still in bed. He could see him just barely, only an errant tuft of his dark hair sticking out from beneath the duvet against one of the pillows.

Martin eased himself down onto the edge of the bed and nudged Jon—or, rather, the shape of him—through the blankets. "Jon?" The person-shaped mass began to shift and a muffled groan sounded from beneath the duvet.

" _I'mawake_ ," Jon moaned, words slurring through the sleep still heavy on his tongue. He shook his head out free from beneath the blankets and brought a hand up to rub at his eyes. He looked at Martin with a weary, half-lidded gaze.

"What time is it?" He asked, looking like he could easily fall back asleep.

"It's just past seven. Are you alright? You look like you didn't get any sleep at all."

Martin took the opportunity to search Jon's face. He'd been looking better in the past couple of days than he had in months, but his skin was beginning to sallow and his eyes were bruised with exhaustion.

"It's, I'm—" Jon fumbled over his words before cutting himself off with a sharp sigh. His expression went pensive, brows furrowing and mouth wrought with tension before he started again. "I'm _hungry_. Again. I was hoping that—that my previous statement would last me for a little while longer but—"

Jon's eyes were getting misty and the frustration reflected in them made Martin's heart hurt. Jon clenched them shut, willing the wetness away. "I have to start all over again, get used to the hunger _all over again_. I'd actually managed to forget how hard it had been the first time."

"Maybe you could take one from me?" Martin suggested. "I-I've got to have something you can use, even if it's small, so long as it can—"

"Absolutely not," Jon snapped abruptly, interrupting him. Martin fell silent, looking away out of reflex. He wasn't sure what to do next, until he felt Jon take his hands into his own. When he finally felt he could hazard a glance back, Jon's expression had softened considerably. He began to rub the curve of Martin's knuckles with his thumb, as if he were holding some sort of precious treasure.

"I don't want it, especially from you. I don't want to feed on you. I never, ever want to do that to you. I need you to understand," Jon pleaded. He looked at him with such fondness that it somehow left Martin at even more of a loss for words.

"S-sorry, I shouldn't have suggested it," Martin managed to choke out, wishing he could have have worked out something just a bit more eloquent.

"No, you're trying to help. You don't need to be sorry for anything, let alone that. I don't want you worrying about me." Jon brought Martin's hands up to his lips before kissing them. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to—to be short with you. I just... don't want you risking yourself on my account. Again."

He'd never been cared for like this before, didn't know what to do with being treated so delicately. More importantly, he still wanted to help. "I could phone Basira? Have her mail some statements?" Martin blurted out; _real smooth_ , he thought to himself. "... Is there anything I can do for you? Right now, I mean. I just—I want to do _something_ for you."

"Come back to bed?" Jon asked. The look on his face was absurdly tender, and Martin felt like his heart was about to burst.

He smiled. "Yeah, of course."

It was such a small, simple request, but Martin was happy to do whatever he could, even if it felt insignificant. He settled himself back into bed as comfortably as he could with wet hair and only a towel wrapped around his waist. Jon nestled closer and a wry smile spread across his face before, in one swift motion, he pulled Martin on top of him.

"Jon!" Martin yelped, taken by the surprise of it.

"Get rid of that thing," Jon urged, giving the towel a sharp, impatient yank.

"Jon, I'm—" _naked_ , Martin intended to say, until he felt the towel unravel from his waist and slide off of him. Jon grabbed it and he sat up just enough to successfully fling it across the room before settling back down.

"You're being very bad, I'll have you know!" Martin scolded as best as he could through his giggling. Jon pulled him closer until their bodies were flush. Martin could feel a rogue hand give his arse a firm squeeze before Jon maneuvered the blankets onto them (and a portion of Martin's dignity was restored).

Martin pressed his forehead against Jon's. "You degenerate," he whispered through a grin.

"You're beautiful," Jon whispered right back before he gave him a quick kiss on the lips. He took a deep breath. "You smell good."

Martin couldn't help but laugh at the sudden remark. "It's just shampoo and soap."

"It's you." Jon shifted until their cheeks were pressed together. Martin could feel his breath against his skin, tickling his ear. "I love you," Jon purred.

Martin's heart did a fluttery thing, and he was more certain than ever that he couldn't lose this man again. "Love you too."


End file.
